Ends and means

My original, crazy, massively oversized Penrose tiling quilt is done at last. It carries all the imperfections of my first stabs at English paper piecing, as well as every bit of love I could bury into it over the course of five eventful years.

As it turned out, the tornado (a nasty, nasty EF-4, barely missing EF-5 status) tracked just a bit north of me, about a half-mile or so. Not much, given that the beast was about a quarter- to half-mile wide. I didn’t know that at the time, though, and in the space of those seemingly-eternal seconds I had plenty of time to think. I asked myself the question anyone would ask: “Any regrets?”

Mine made me chuckle: “I wish I’d finished Pentatonic. I wish I’d finished Seven Brides. I wanted to prove they could be done.”

This quilt has shouldered much in the five years it awaited completion.

An accident, a bad one, to a loved one.
His coma, and a range of ICUs (neurological, trauma) and hospitals.
Many months of his extensive physical and occupational rehab.
A job change.
The Hackleburg F5 tornado.
Much travel for work.
Munich.
London.
A promotion.
Divorce.
Australia.
Losing quilt cats #1 and #2.
Buying a home in another state.
Cross-country move.
Funerals.
Gaining two new quilt cats.
New boyfriend, and his additional two quilt cats.
New life.

Packing the partially-completed top as part of my cross-country move caused me sadness and embarrassment -- "all these years and STILL not finished" -- and due to under-buying the original fabric, I believed it might never be finished.

But … let's begin at the beginning.

Jacob introduced me to Penrose tilings through instant message late one afternoon, and our discussions then and since have completely altered my interest in quiltmaking. They were always shown in two colors, and I thought, "What if I could technically keep my design a solid plus a single, creatively cut, print fabric?"

I settled on two fabrics from Kaufman's "Chasing The Rainbow II" line:

I stopped soon after this point, though, because I knew I had a problem. I was running out of fabric:

I kept a saved search on eBay for it for a couple of years, and eventually began to despair of ever finishing the project. I started making stars that were the best of what fabric I still had. Then, in May 2014, ten yards of the fabric I needed appeared for sale on eBay. I bought it all, and the project was back on. As I made progress with the luxury of spare fabric, I realized I would eventually want to go back and fix a few stars made during the time of scarcity that I never would’ve placed in the quilt if I’d had any other choice. (February 2015, "Pick-Up Time")

and when I'd finally finished the top, and found the longarm quilter I wanted to use, I gave her a printed chart to help her see the pattern. (A nod of respect to Nancy at justquiltingpdx.com because her work was beautiful and appropriate!)

It is quilted with Easter eggs all through it. My home state. Jacob's home state. An outline of Australia. Cats. The names of Jacob's wife and children. A message from me. It is as intensely personal as you'd expect of a 96" x 96" (2.44m²) hand-sewn quilt. I'm halfway through the promise I made myself while huddling in the closet in 2011: I finished Pentatonic. It goes home with Jacob today, and if the stars align, and we submit it in time, it should be displayed at the Sisters Quilt Show next summer.

Go home to Minnesota, Ms. Pentatonic. You have people to keep warm. You are no longer my Guilt Quilt. You are just an object to be loved and snuggled under; an object that serves as a reminder that even in the lowest period of my life, I chose to continue making beautiful things. It took five years, but I am finding my way back to warmth and light, and Pentatonic is finally going home.